Prescription Parables

Once upon a time, there was a young woman who came to Urgent Care and said she fell. She proclaimed to have a lot of pain. Upon the doctor's asking, she revealed that she fell over a month ago. X-rays revealed nothing out of place, but when the doctor prescribed her Motrin, she protested she needed something stronger. However, her record showed she was allergic to all narcotics, which she contested with all her might. This all was to no avail, however, as she was prescribed Tramadol, which she incorrectly identified as an anti-inflammatory. The brash young witch then argued with and threw a pen at the doctor, angry that she could not get a narcotic prescription, revealing that she stopped coming to our hospital because we wouldn't give her anything in the past either, at which point, security escorted her out, amidst a volley of curses very unbecoming for any young lady.

Moral: Be a lady, leave with dignity. Contesting the competency of the doctor will get you red-flagged, not the Rx you want to sell. Threatening to go to patient-services is also futile.

Corollary A:

Once upon a time, there was another young woman who claimed to have fallen. Pathetically lethargic in a wheelchair, she said she couldn't move. Upon entering the room, I asked her to hop onto the bed, which she did with lightness and grace that one expects from a young lady. She proclaimed not to remember when she fell, where she fell, nor why she didn't remember she fell. As her x-rays came back normal, and interviews with her proved futile as she was high as a kite, we concluded she was in need of nothing stronger than Motrin. Of course, she protested this decision, naming Percocet as her drug of choice. When she realized she could not budge the doctor, she threw out her prescription in our pail, laughed in our faces, saying, thanks but no thanks, *****. Threatening to go to patient-relations, she was too high to notice our stone-cold faces as we calmly called security to escort her out.

S